Triage
by ladypredator
Summary: Some of TJ's thoughts during the episode "Water" plus a missing scene that I wish had been there. One-shot story unless I get an urge to write a sequel later .


"Always consider the greater good. That's it."

At first, TJ had thought Dr. Rush was simply playing games with her and that frustrated her. She'd been very serious when she asked him for his advice. Quite frankly, she was scared to death of trying to make command decisions in the middle of the water crisis, especially with the added worry about the strange alien bugs. She needed real help, not platitudes.

It was only later that she realized that he'd been every bit as serious as she had been.

---

Greer and a couple of marines were herding the bugs towards a room Rush had identified as sealable. That might give them a bit of time. Yet, at the moment, all she could do was watch them herd that cloud down a long corridor with occasional blasts of Greer's makeshift torch. That bothered her. She didn't think the creatures really meant harm; they were just trying to survive – but they couldn't be allowed to survive at the cost of the people she was charged to protect. That was an easy decision.

Eli – whom she wanted to slap silly at this point for being totally useless in the crisis – was muttering to himself over the other console, so she took the moment to pull Rush aside. She didn't need to say a word; just a tilt of her head had him moving with her to the far corner beyond the Stargate where they could talk in private.

"What do you think the Colonel's chances of rescuing Scott are?" she asked, trusting him to give her an honest assessment.

He grimaced, gave her a slight shake of his head, bangs tumbling down around his dark eyes.

"Unlikely," she said, easily interpreting his response, sighing in resignation.

"What's the chance of getting him to leave Lt. Scott behind and bring back the water we need?" Rush asked in return. An eyebrow lifted over one of his eyes and twin dimples cut into the side of his mouth, though that wasn't a smile, more an expression of wry resignation on his part.

It was her turn to shake her head.

"Unlikely," he repeated her own word back to her.

"The Colonel will never leave one of his men behind, not willingly," she confirmed. "He'll just keep trying to pull him up."

"Until they run out of time and both die out there," Rush responded, making it a statement rather than a question.

She frowned. "How can I ask him to leave Matt to die? He'd be furious with me for even suggesting it." She paused, staring down at the floor at their feet, sorrow drawing furrows around her eyes, darkening their usually clear color. "How could I suggest it?"

"Because if he doesn't come back in time, we'll have traded two lives for one, not to mention everyone else if we don't have enough water to keep us going until we find another planet with a water source," Rush said with quiet patience. He wasn't scolding her, he wasn't even being familiarly pragmatic and cold, his voice was soft, his expression gentle when she lifted her head to look at him.

She gazed into his eyes for a long, almost breathless moment, her mind absorbing his words, racing to try to find an answer. Surely there were more options, other choices, there had to be _something_ she could do. But time was fleeing away from them and despite her horror at even thinking such a thing as abandoning a friend to die; she knew instinctively that he was right.

Deep lines cut into the skin around his eyes and mouth as he saw the combination of misery and acceptance dawn in her face and his smile was the most sorrowful one she'd ever seen.

"Aye, there's the rub," he said, his melodic accent thickening on the words. "The hardest decision anyone ever has to make: who lives and who dies. It's easy to do what makes you feel good without considering the longer term consequences. That's Colonel Young's biggest failing – he doesn't see…"

"The greater good," she finished for him, the full weight of understanding falling on her shoulders as she realized exactly what his earlier advice had truly meant.

"Yes," he said. "The greater good. Unfortunately, it so often means an immediate sacrifice. And I'm not telling you that abandoning Scott is the right decision for this situation. It may not be. You have to consider the consequences. You have to recognize that trying to save one life now may cost more lives later. You have to weigh how much it hurts to leave him now against how you may feel if Colonel Young dies with him, how you may feel if we run out of water in days or weeks and you have to watch everyone on this ship die of thirst. That may not happen, we may get lucky." He hunched his shoulders in a half-shrug, half-protective squeeze. "You have to decide – just make sure you make a careful, knowledgeable decision."

"I don't know if I can," she said, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She bit her lower lip. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

"You have to – and you will," Rush told her, surprising her with the certainty in his voice. "You have the ability to make the tough decisions that the Colonel doesn't. You can already see the consequences in a way that he never will. You can do it."

She gave him a startled look, never expecting that from this man. He'd shown nothing but disdain for everyone, with the occasional exception of Eli. She hadn't expected even the quiet, steady support he'd given her since Young and Scott left – and this was miles beyond that. It showed trust and a degree of faith in her that both astonished and gratified her.

Her stance straightened up. She rolled her shoulders up and back. She set her jaw; felt his confidence in her shore up her own confidence. If he believed she could handle the situation, then she could.

An old memory flickered in the back of her mind from her training as a medic. Words from an instructor during long hours spent running disaster drills. None of it had fully penetrated at the time; those drills had been like games. Running around putting colored tags on volunteers or plastic dummies, marking the dead, the about-to-be-dead, the emergent treatable, the ones who could wait, the walking wounded. Being told that these would be the hardest decisions she'd ever have to make, but not really believing it at the time. Only now did every word that grizzled veteran battle medic had said make absolute, painful sense. This was triage. Knowing that lives depending on the decisions she made.

She had been trained to do it. She could do it.

Her change in attitude, in the way she stood, the thoughtful reflection in her eyes, all must have communicated itself to Rush. He gave her an approving nod. She found herself smiling at him, even though she knew that smile was as wry, as rueful, as his so often was.

Then another thought occurred and she nibbled at her lower lip.

"It doesn't matter what I say. Even if I recommend to the Colonel that he leave Scott and return, he'll refuse. He's still my superior officer and I can't order him to do it. He won't do it."

Rush sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I know. But it has to be said." He spread his hands out between them. "I'll do it. No reason to make him annoyed with you. He already hates me, so it doesn't matter if I point out another truth he doesn't want to hear."

"He doesn't…" she began; but the way he looked at her stopped her from arguing with him. He shrugged when she cut off in mid-sentence. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

"Hey guys," came a yell from across the room. It was Eli. They shared a glance of silent understanding and hurried back to the consoles.

---

"Colonel!" Rush yelled into the communicator, but Young had already cut them off. Eli was hovering over Chloe Armstrong behind them, while she glared daggers at Rush's back. TJ had to restrain herself from yelling at both of them to get out and go back to their quarters. Worthless, the pair of them. She was in the middle of two major crises and the last thing she needed was hysterics and foolish accusations.

She ignored them instead, moving over to stand at Rush's side. He was staring at the Stargate pensively.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he said, his voice tired. "I tried."

"I know," she replied, placing her hand over his on the console. "Thank you."

He didn't reply or take his hand out from under hers immediately. There was a moment of quiet connection between them before he did move, pulling his hand free, and turning to face her.

"We need to deal with those bugs."

She nodded and then indulged herself enough to give Eli a nasty look. "Let's check in with Greer and see what they're doing now."

---

Events seemed to fly past them. Rush reminded her that the bugs were drawn to water and she soon made a connection, found a possible solution. Knew what to do.

It meant putting herself at risk; but she wasn't going to ask anyone else to do it. It was her decision – her responsibility. Greer wasn't happy when she ordered him away and even less so when she expressed her lack of trust in him, but it was the truth. Yet another unpalatable truth as Rush had said earlier. The sergeant was too damn kill-happy for her peace of mind. He acted without thinking.

In fact, if she had to say who she trusted right at that point, another unpalatable truth would limit that to one person only.

He was solid as a rock; prepared and ready; taking her orders without question or debate.

When she told him to seal off this area of the ship if the bugs escaped, he didn't argue. He accepted her right to make that choice and its necessity. She was grateful for that.

The problem was that Eli – again – questioned her. "That would leave you trapped with them. You might be killed!" he exclaimed. Idiot. She knew that. She didn't need it yelled across the ship's systems for everyone to hear.

"Shut up, Eli! I gave you an order, do as you're told!" she yelled back.

There was silence over the radio for a moment, she breathed in a deep breath, preparing herself as best she could, and then she gave the order to open the compartment door.

Almost shockingly, the rest of it went according to plan. The bugs went into the water-containing barrel, she sealed it, and they rushed it to the Stargate and tossed it through to the planet.

At her glance, Rush confirmed that he could find no sign of any remaining bugs on the ship. And even as she breathed a sigh of relief at that, the Gate burst back into life and Colonel Young came back through, amazingly with a living Scott.

She took over his care, hurrying him off to the makeshift infirmary, silently thanking whatever God might be that they'd come through this as well as they had. As Rush had said, they might get lucky, and they had. Perhaps it was simply some kind of balance; they were certainly overdue for some good luck.

She tried to ignore the small niggling thought in the back of her mind that wondered if Young had made the right choice bringing back Scott instead of a load of ice.

They were due for some good luck. She had to believe it would happen.

And this time, at least, their luck did hold. For the moment.

---

END


End file.
